


The Candle And The Anvil

by hazelandglasz



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M, medieval times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 02:29:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8603659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelandglasz/pseuds/hazelandglasz
Summary: Anonymous asked :klaine, medieval, blind date? :) and maybe you could give them jobs like candlemaker or slop master if it would fit - you don't have to thoughng him





	

Kurt is hitting on the anvil when Mercedes clears her throat--loud enough that he hears her over the slamming of the hammer and the noise of the furnace.

“What do you want, Mercedes?”

“I want you to stop hitting that sword and wash your face to go on your date with Master Anderson.”

“Why would I do that?”

Mercedes throws water on the fire, and that is enough to make him stop. That’s also just enough to make him more than a little bit irritated. 

“You’re going to do that,” she says, hands on her waist, “because you need a companion and you two would make a wonderful couple.”

“How do you know?” Kurt asks, even if he does take off his gloves and goes to his basin to wash his hands and face.

“Trust me. I have very good instincts.”

He snorts and swallows some of the water. “Like the ones that told you  _ we  _ would make a great couple?”

“No, that was just lust.”

Kurt laughs openly this time and takes a clean(-ish) piece of fabric to dry off his hair.

“Here, I even picked a clean shirt for you.”

“You … you entered my house?”

Mercedes doesn’t even look guilty. “To help you, Master Hummel.”

“Fine”, he says, snatching his shirt. “But you get out of here before I get changed.”

This time, Mercedes isn’t quick enough to hide her disappointment but she does leave him in peace. “I hope you’ll have a great time with Master Anderson.”

Kurt pauses with the shirt covering his face. What will the new candlemaker be like?

No one has really seen him properly since he arrived in the village--all everyone knows is that he’s young, and single.

And attracted to men.

And apparently very talented at his job--though no one has seen him, his creations are all over the town, bright colors and wonderlike shapes.

To say that Kurt is at least a bit intrigued is an understatement.

\---

The village’s tavern is not the fanciest place in the kingdom, sure, but Kurt thought of it as a neutral ground for them to meet.

After all, he doesn’t know of Master Anderson’s tastes, his likes, his dislikes--Heavens, he doesn’t know what the man looks like!

“Excuse me?”

Kurt turns on his heels, facing a man of a slightly smaller stature than himself.

“Yes?”

“Are you Master Hummel?” The man asks, his voice soft and charming.

The voice of a minstrel--and a good one at that, not like the town’s bard.

Gosh, Master Ryerson needs to stick to the nomadic habit of his crafts.

“I am,” Kurt replies, holding up his hand in salute. “Are you Master Anderson?”

The man returns the salute, holding Kurt’s forearm and turning his arm to offer his own to Kurt’s grasp. “You can call me Blaine.”

“Kurt.”

Okay so maybe this idea of Kurt finding a companion is not completely ridiculous.

\---

The ale was a bit too warm for his taste, and the brisket not cooked enough, but Kurt can’t find it in himself to say that the date was a failure.

Not when he spent the whole evening--and well into the night--discussing everything and anything with a man as engaging, fascinating and passionate as Master Blaine Anderson, candlemaker.

And not just about their crafts, or about the village, no. They really talked about a lot of things--their profound dislike of joutes, the advantages of being in a walled town, the weight of the Church and the discriminating laws against non-Christians, their favorite minstrels--in the course of the evening, and truth be told, Kurt never wanted for it to end.

When they parted, Kurt had to keep a firm rein on himself to refrain from asking Blaine to move in with him immediately.

The next morning, Kurt tries to act like everything's normal.

Like his world didn’t get turned on its axis and now his heart matches the flicker of a candle, excited when Blaine is in sight, and close to get swooshed away when he is not.

Because Hummel men are blacksmith and their strength cannot depend on a meek candlemaker whose smile lights up a room whenever he enters it.

(No pun intended.)

But when said candlemaker knocks on the mantle of Kurt’s door, a woven basket in hand, Kurt nearly hits himself in the face with his wrench.

“Good morning, Kurt.”

“Good morning, Blaine.”

“I thought that maybe, if you have the time, we could--”

“Yes.”

“--have lunch by the paper mill, okay then.”

The smile on Blaine’s lips is inviting, and warm, and Kurt is melting in it.

\---

Weeks pass, and Winter turns into Spring, bringing more work to Kurt’s workshop than ever.

Blaine comes to spend time with him, and in spite of Kurt’s growing affection for the candlemaker, nothing really happens.

Though …

That’s not entirely true.

Kurt can hear the way Blaine slows down his words when Kurt starts hitting the anvil in earnest.

Can see the way Blaine turns his body to follow Kurt’s moves around his workshop, like a dark sunflower captivated by the Sun.

(Not that Kurt would ever compare himself to the Sun, not the point.)

“Kurt?”

“Hm?”

“You busy?”

Kurt quickly looks at Blaine before returning his attention to the delicate work in front of him. “I’m making a casket for the Bourgmestre’s pet falcon and he wants it to be metal and glass,” he replies. “Is there something I can do for you?”

“I … wanted to talk to you.”

There is an urgency in Blaine’s voice that puts Kurt on edge. “What about?”

Blaine comes to sit next to Kurt, and for a moment, he fidgets with his fingers.

Not for the first time, Kurt makes a mental note about how delicate those fingers are, in spite of the burn marks and the scars.

“Do you know why I became a candlemaker?”

Kurt shakes his head.

“I wanted to bring more light into the world, to fight off the darkness that can surround us at time.”

That sounds like everything Kurt thinks of when he thinks of Blaine. “Makes sense.”

“But,” Blaine continues, voice growing stronger, “ever since I met you … I think that the world is already filled with enough light.”

Kurt blinks a couple of times and puts everything down. “Blaine--what are you saying?”

“I’m saying … well, what I’m trying to say is …,” Blaine says, reaching for Kurt’s hand, “you brighten up my world, Kurt Hummel, and I can only hope that in returns, I make you stronger.”

Blaine slowly inches in, giving Kurt plenty of time to absorb everything he said or move away if he so desired.

Which he absolutely does not.

Blaine’s kiss brings to mind the tentative light of a small candle at dawn--soft, and timid, but providing hope and warmth in a world of shadows.

Kurt returns the kiss with everything that has filled his heart ever since they met, pulling Blaine closer to him.

“I thought--” Blaine starts, but goes for a second, more passionate, hotter kiss instead.

Whatever he thought, Kurt agrees.

Wholeheartedly.

“Will you--”.

“Yes.”

Months later, when the whole town is still celebrating the union of their candlemaker and their blacksmith, they unify their forces to make Mercedes the brightest and most unique  [ gift  ](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/23/f9/b9/23f9b9d44bfcfda9b38fe5529354979c.jpg) possible.


End file.
